美しい涙の藍 - the blue of beautiful tears
by hobicidal
Summary: wet mascara and lipstick stains. [insp - sparklepox (ao3)]


**All of these prompts will be explained in full detail if you want to know more!**

 **This is my biggest piece yET and it'll be amazing if you review,,  
**

 **I apologize in advance for _slightt_ cursing, I just think Aomine curses a lot and if I don't**

 **it'll be ooc**

* * *

 **01.**

Rain comes down in sheets from the dusty-coloured sky, the water managing to soak everything.

A bell rings softly as the glass door to a cafe down the road pushes open. Pink tresses dripping, Satsuki bolts over to put her laptop bag down onto a vacant table before returning to the door and whisking her drenched locks into a high ponytail, squeezing it onto the concrete outside, ridding it of unnecessary moisture.

The girl hums softly, not really registering the presence of anyone else around her. Sighing in a contented manner, she closes her eyes, feeling the warm air close around her numb skin, enveloping her. It isn't especially warm, but she is just too cold.

She feels the side of her forearm brushing on her wet laptop bag. The student opens her eyes, she wants to go and grab a menu from the counter.

She is, however, greeted by a pair of dark, cobalt blue eyes that burn into her fuchsia ones. A small, indistinguishable noise escapes her lips as she jumps back in her chair slightly.

He is tall and it intimidates her. Only slightly, but it's unnerving. She feels weak

She doesn't even realise that the person is trying to hand her a menu.

Satsuki shudders and grips and onto the strap of her bag, her other hand reaches for the thin laminated card. Upon contact with the object, she realises how cold she is, in a plain tee and tights.

She takes the menu, perfectly manicured nails crinkles the card as she feels the eyes on her. The card slowly crumples as she shivers, but maybe she wants to crumple it, maybe it's nice to feel the paper slowly shrink. The paper is weaker, smaller than her.

She doesn't even realise she was holding back a breath before he takes the menu from her hands, making her release a huff, surprised.

She lets go without thinking and expects him to be angry about the menu.

But he hands her a newer, smoother, unwrinkled card.

She hears gibberish in a smooth voice.

Satsuki forgets she had walked into an French coffee shop and is surprised by that language he used. Her breath hitches in her throat as she struggles to speak.

"C-capaccino please. And cake. Carrot cake please."

Her words are broken between bits of her mother tongue and weak attempted French, she realises she should learn another language, like English or something.

He smiles at her, quite obviously false, turns his broad back to her and walks away, she sees the apron causing the white fabric of his shirt to hug his torso, defining his shoulder blades.

Satsuki wonders when the last time he ate was.

The pinkette takes out her laptop and uses a napkin to wipe down the metal and dab at her bag, the flimsy material holding all the moisture it can before it becomes a soggy mess. She quickly disposes off it before turning on her device and connecting it to the outlet in the wall next to her.

She opens up her most recent project and begins tapping away at the keypad, watching words spring up on the document.

Her cappuccino is served by a short man with hair like the sky. She was slightly disappointed, not for _any particular reason_ , but she just.. was.

He gives her a few free sugar samples and suddenly he is really, really, really, really cute.

Oh my.

She fans herself with the menu for two seconds before she continues to work and drink.

Soon her next dish arrives, and it is served by her first waiter, she will call him Ganguro-kun. It soudns like a mascot for a tacky brand, But he looks strange. Like ganguro.

He stands a bit closer to her as he sets the plate down next to her laptop. As he leans over, she sees him more clearly, sees the veins on his arms, sees the long fingers set down the tray.

His hands look rough and calloused, but his hand is slender and it looks somewhat pretty, like bamboo and butterflies.

"They're pretty." she murmurs at him, and his hands slip as the ceramic clatters on the wood.

Their position is quite awkward and he looks down at her, an uncomfortable expression on his face.

Ganguro-kun tries to avert his eye contact and she laughs.

She then realises that maybe she should wear a jacket over her front. A breastplate of armour would be preferable. She fans herself yet again with the menu.

"What's pretty."

His gruff voice interrupts her thoughts as she looks up at him again, eyes searching. His voice is more a command than a question.

Satsuki holds up her hands and wiggles her fingers. "Your hands," she says softly. Ganguro-kun looks at his own fingers before stuffing them in his pocket and quickly walking away.

The pink haired girl hums as she continues to tap away at her laptop, the occasional sip of her drink and dainty bite of the cake.

Throughout the afternoon, Satsuki thinks she feels eyes on her, but she isn't sure.

After she is done and the rain has halted, she leaves, a slight sense of remorse stirring in the pit of her stomach as the bell of the cafe rings once again, the glass door swinging shut behind her as she hears a familiar deep voice cough just before the glass clamps shut.

She doesn't come back to the cafe until two Thursdays afterward, something seems to be missing but Satsuki can't quite place her finger on it.

 **02.**

The first time Daiki saw her, he didn't run.

The God of spring peered at Satsuki with weary eyes and followed her down to the underworld.

"It doesn't matter," he assured Satsuki. "You were lonely. And you're kinda cute too."

Satsuki stared back, a sorrowful expression clouding her face. "Nothing thrives in the underworld." she whispered under her breath, wisps of warm air from her lungs swirling up in the cool night air.

Daiki kicks back on a blanket-covered seat and naps, but he keeps an eye open, like an owl.

Satsuki shies away, long nails brushing back her hair, almost red eyes seemingly glowing in the darkness, the expression on her face so pained it was as if she knew something he didn't.

But as the days pass, the harvest falters and the Spring God is fading.

He is granted to leave on a whim.

The next time Daiki sees her, he runs.

 **03.**

Flames licked at the sides of Satsuki's pant hems, missing her bare skin by a fraction. The girl is blind, but she is not so senseless to not recognise the smell of fire as she inhaled the not so sweet scent of burning linen sheets and pollen.

Pollen. Flowers.

Despite herself, the female scrambled off her already burning bed, choked sobbing emitting her cracked throat as the blaze ripples at her exposed ankles, melting the peachy skin to reveal raw flesh.

She has reached her destination, Satsuki has, the wooden table in her room where a vase of orchids perched. Her hands reaches out to caress the flimsy life source that gave her the slightest bit of air, but before her fingers could grasp onto the stem, too much vapour had entered her lungs, and had drained her oxygen.

Shee had only managed to flick at a petal, sway forward and knock the ceramic over as he and the bouquet falls almost in slow motion, water spraying onto her rosy hair and weakening the fire only slightly before it flared up majestically again.

Satsuki remembers nothing but a flash of red, a small whisper of "You're beautiful," and an accident on a crisp summer day shared with someone or something that made her wonder about fate.

"I'm finally coming, Daiki."

 **04.**

The faint silhouette of two bodies pressed against each other, the taller couldn't possibly be Daiki.. Could it? Butsadly, unfortunately, it was.

It was Daiki Aomine in all his blue-haired, slanted-eyed glory. Eyes consumed with lust so strong that Satsuki thought she would melt. But those eyes were not for her.

So he whispered.

"I thought you loved me."

Her voice refused to falter in the slightest, astonishing herself with such confidence.

"And I thought you were different."

A choked sob emitted dry lips, but before any other words could be said, he was gone.

She had been so endlessly trampled on, it was pathetic, maybe if she'd be trampled on in an artful way, in a way that so the pain wasn't so great to morph her heart into an unconscious organ, in a way that didn't have such sharp pain, maybe then it wouldn't have been so ridiculously painful. But the thing was, she hadn't.

She had also thought, she had thought that Daiki and him were meant to be, as idiotic as it sounded. Ever since Tetsuya had left her for somewhere, maybe even someone else, the only one left to comfort her was Daiki, and Daiki only. So thus, she foolishly, aimlessly and unknowingly threw out all common sense for him.

Only to find that it didn't work that way. _He_ didn't work that way.

Of course, Daiki Aomine and his soft hair, sensual touch and bright eyes could get better.

Of course he preferred prepossessing girls with bodies that twisted one way too many and lips so full they looked like balloons. Of course he'd prefer to tangle his large hands in long, silken locks and trail his other fingers down a delicate arm over ruffling shaggy hair and flicking foreheads, the occasional slip of a skirt.

Of course. Of course. She was so naïve, to think that Daiki would ever look at her twice.

 **05.**

There was a deafening scream as the sound of screeching tyres resonated in Daiki's head. He whipped around, staring blankly at the road accident.

Something stirred deep within him as he shouted undefinable words at the taxi that had skidded over the sleet-covered road, his voice becoming hoarse, but too scared to cross the yellow ribbons that warned him to keep out.

After the he had gotten in the front of the crowd, the male rushed over and grabbed the driver by the collar who was barely injured. Daiki feels as if something important had left him, he doesn't know what.

It seemed that the driver had swerved himself out of the way of the pole and had the right side of the backseat crash into the metal.

Red-faced and irritated, the chauffeur griped onto the bank notes that he had received earlier from his passenger.

Fuming, the teen walks over and the driver scurries off, leaving Daiki with the sight of a pink-haired female being carried in a stretcher, into an ambulance.

Strange. He doesn't know any girls like that.

Then what was this feeling inside of him?

The next morning, he wakes up to news about the crash on TV over a cup of coffee and week-old rice cake. He sees the slightly grainy picture of a pretty girl in the top left corner, magenta eyes sparkling as if something exciting was going to happen.

He wonders what could've been.

 **06.**

"Whatever."

The single word rung out in her mind, resonating through her head as Satsuki keeled over, small whimpers racking her frame.

Her mind felt so flooded right now, yet so empty. Her blood pumping so loudly she thought she could hear it. Something inside of her stirred as he felt the unease rise again.

"Get out of here, Satsu'."

A sudden breath she wasn't aware of inhaling hitched in her throat as the girl cracked a weak smile, staring back at the one man she thought completed her other half.

Standing up, she looked him in the eye. "Never call me that again." she managed barely.

"Don't ask for me back again lat —" her ex-lover was cut off by a sharp slap to his face. It wasn't hard enough to sting immensely, but enough to make salty tears spring out from his eyes.

"Anyway, I said leave, you bitch." he scowled.

Scoffing lightly, she let out a small whimper before leaving quickly.

It was late already, around eleven at night. The cool night wind nipped at her bare face and arms, as if grating away her shell to expose the vulnerable feelings kept inside.

The oversized jacket she was wearing was sliding soundlessly off her shoulders.

Letting out a choked sob, Satsuki sniffed, wiping her eyes to prevent the pooling tears that threatened to spill slide down his cheeks.

She felt no regret, no remorse.

She couldn't say he felt.. What was the word? Heartbroken, because she didn't. It was just a direct, flat, pressing pain that felt like heavy lead on her chest.

Satsuki threw her head back again, inhaling and running a hand through her pink hair, sudden mirthless giggling escaping her lips. She stumbled, slightly dizzy — head bumping into the wall nearby and collapsing right there.

She guesses she hasn't found the one just yet.

 **07.**

It was a cold night, around nine pm.

Small flakes of snow descended from above, falling gracefully, slowly onto Satsuki's nose. She sniffed.

And from behind a building came Daiki. Silent. Beautiful. Timeless.

"Oh.. Satsuki?" He had asked. "What are you doing out so late?"

"Dai-chan," she replied. "Dai-chan. I'm going for a drink." She didn't lie to him in fear of his rejection.

Aomine wrinkled his nose. "Does it have to be beer?"

She nodded yes. "Alcohol." It didn't have to be vodka or wine or some pricey beverage. Just something to fill her thoughts.

Alcohol.

Something to keep her dead of the world but more awake than anything.

Alcohol.

"Yes."

She received an uncomfortable smile in return, a small smile, fleeting - one that reminded her of a pure white memory. "Let me take you somewhere today then."

And so she willingly let Daiki take her by the arm and steer her toward a coffee shop.

"My treat."

And so started the days of midnight coffee breaks to keep Satsuki and Daiki awake until 5am, silent or talking at a bus stop for shelter.

Be it drizzling with rain or breezing winds. It kept them barely conscious, but alive and feeling.  
"See you again." they would say to each other, parting to their dorms either together or separately.

But sadly, Satsuki just had to be so clever, she had been accepted into some university in England.

And today, it was their last time together.

Silent tears trickle down snow-numbed skin as Satsuki buries her face in his chest, a ticklish sensation rubbing her face as she dampens the fleece with salty tears that made the coffee taste bad.

He whispers not-so-sweet nothings into her ears and softly strokes her hair, a small smile on his face because he knows that she will do fine.

Satsuki realises she had left Daiki to stand in line at Starbucks in the morning, get excited over new coffee beans alone and drink warm coffee in his blankets at 5am;

Without her.

 **08.**

He rocks her like the ocean, his hair vibrant blue like one, giving her the illusion as she sleeps with it near.

His eyes are deep like the ocean, the aqua giving her the feeling of drowning, a horrific, blissful death, an illusion of such deep waters.

His hands are the rocks that frames the ocean, one misstep and she could slip and die, the surface so rough, yet even and smooth in a way, an illusion similar to painting over sand grains.

His stature was vast and sturdy like the ocean, she thinks that if she tried, she could lose herself in his arms as she buries her nose in the crook of his neck, the illusion of comfort just before you are gone, like floating before you drop.

His voice is deep, extensive like the ocean. Both figuratively and literally. His soft hums are the waves brushing softly over sands on the low tides, his rattling breaths after runs giving an illusion like the ocean hitting the stoney canyon during a storm.

Everything was an illusion, for he was not hers.

 **09.**

Satsuki loves going to the duck pond. She loves the way the ducks waddle up to her for the biscuit crumbs, she loves the way the sun shines bright but there is always a cluster of trees to shade her, she loves how when the weather is cold the edge of the pond looks like crystallized lace, she loves how tranquil and beautiful everything is.

But most of all, she loves him.

The painter who always shows up, his appearance without a steady pattern so she can't pin down a day to "bump into" him.

Most of the time, Satsuki is doing something boring like reading a book and eating a granola bar or humming along with the rustle of trees and scouring through her phone.

But he is always painting, with that canvas that never changes.

And she has never gone over to speak to him before.

One day Satsuki climbs a tree, and it is a pure coincidence when he sits down right under that tree.

She doesn't realise at first, so when she is about to climb down, slightly embarrassed at what she just did, she sees him.

The flicks of his brush are delicate as he traces the leaves of a tree with a dagger-ended brush.

His brushstrokes are smooth and endless when he paints the water surface, pale blue bleeding into the white canvas, eerily beautiful.

She shuffles a bit in the tree and gasps as she feels the branch heave when she moves.

The man is too absorbed in his painting to care, so she tries to slip down unnoticed.

The next thing that happens is unplanned.

Satsuki looses her footing and slips down the trunk, grazing her elbows. Her hair just manages to sweep across the painting barely as the man is painting the sky, fractions away from damaging the canvas.

She first hears a loud curse and the shuffling of feet as she is steadied by a pair of strong hands.

The girl is thankful that a) the fall wasn't huge and b) she had managed to break her fall with both hands, having only a bruise on her left leg.

She blinks and looks up into the light, seeing the stony-faced painter peer down at her.

 _He's pissed,_

Satsuki looks around and realises that she has squashed a tube of oil paint onto the green grass below, the red paint colouring the end of her shirt.

She smiles weakly and stands up, trying not to catch the person's eye. "I'll replace that for you," she says.

"No," he replies. "No, it's alright."

Satsuki is shocked.

"It's beautiful, the painting is beautiful."

She realises that her fall created a ripple through the work like the world is looking through rain, it's abstract in a way, she guesses.

But he loves it.

She laughs nervously and he brushes his hair back. "It was for a college project, but I'm done now."

His smile is dazzling and it puts her off guard.

"It's beautiful." he echoes. "Thank you."

True to his word, he was 'done', because Satsuki never saw the starry-eyed painter again.

 **10.**

She comes across him first on a video on the web, from a popular channel that features sport fans reacting to certain sports gone wrong, the channel name is _Multrix_ and she doesn't understand.

She is twelve and it says on screen he is too.

The boy is laughing and making an impression of a duck in a video he is watching.

It makes Satsuki smile.

His hair is cut quite casually, trimmed and short. He's wearing glasses that look fake.

The chain of his appearances in the videos stop for a while, and it isn't until three years later she discovers the channel at the bottom of her follow list.

So Satsuki watches a recent video.

The video is entertaining, on people reacting to some viral trend.

A familiar face catches her attention and she recognises him.

He is so different though, it's funny how time can change a person such.

His hair used to cover all the back of his head, quite spiked at the top with the faux kiddy hair gel, but now it's in a small layer of separate tufts on his scalp. He wears a simple grey shirt and his skin is tanner than she remembers. Her heart stops.

He covers his mouth to snicker and Satsuki sees how slim his wrists are, how his eyes twinkle secretly, she sounds like a stalker but he's _grown._

Unsure of what is going on, she scours the video list and finds an old one which she remembers seeing. It's from three years ago and in the video it introduces him as 'Daiki, Age 12'

She counts the years and sure enough, he should be around her age.

Maybe the fact that it's three am distracts her, but she searches ' _multrix daiki_ ' online and sure enough she finds a page on him.

 _He has a page on him._

It says his name is Daiki Aomine and he is Japanese. His favourite food is sweet potatoes and he plays the cello.

She can't see his thin wrists but strangely long hands play the cello.

But the thought of it is breathtaking.

He has a sister named Ako who plays piano and apparently he's known for being happy - a fact that's been proven by many videos.

But he doesn't seem so happy anymore.

Satsuki falls asleep thinking of him, her phone screen slowly fading as the brightness gives up and turns off.

 **11.**

Satsuki is at a school orchestra and she is on the oboe, in the wind instrument section.

She is the only oboe player, so they can't afford to lose her.

Her notes are light and free, melodic and brilliant, it moves hearts of many.

But they don't move her, because the piano player has had her in his grasp for too long for her to hear anything else that is more melodic and brilliant than his symphonies.

 **12.**

She is a dressmaker's daughter and he is the duke's son.

Three weeks later she is killed for treason and he had to watch as the blade fell on her pretty neck, the bone crunching.

He will never forget her tears.

The guards want to feed her body to the wolves, but he cradles her as her head is on the verge of falling and buries her in a safe place, in one piece.

On day one, Daiki brings over a banjo and a bouquet of wild purple daises.

"Blue and pink make purple," she always whispered to him.

Daiki strums a tune and places the daisies on the stone.

He talks to her about how the maid dropped his tea today, how she was yelled at for cracking the china and dirtying the marble floor.

He tells her about how they have hired a new footman to cater for his father.

He speaks of the stable boy who fed his horse the wrong hay bales that were meant for the cows, he was sacked.

He laughs as he recalls the duchess of another land who wanted his father's affection, he says she was horribly fat.

The sun is setting and he whispers. "Do you see that?" under his breath. It's his first sunset since her deathday and it brings tears to his eyes.

He leaves once it is too dark to venture out more.

On day two he comes back with a handful of cotton branches. Satsuki loved seeing real cotton branches, she loved how the fluffy substance grew on trees, she loved how soft they were, she loved how she could make cotton shirts for him.

He puts the branches near her tombstone and gathers them together with a silk ribbon he nicked from his mother's best satin dress.

Aomine laughs as he sings to her.

His voice is soft and it sounds like feathers falling from a flying bird's wings and honeyed lemon pie.

His voice is firm, like a waterfall and fresh wood crackling in a fire.

His voice is rich like fresh cream and buttercups swaying in the wind.

He falls asleep.

Before long, her grave is covered with scattered petals and the occasional fresh blossom, but everyone already knew, the flowers were like their relationship, though beautiful, scattered and vulnerable to everything, renewed through hard work but trampled on so easily.

 **13.**

Satsuki wants to go to an arcade.

The year is 2158 and arcades are run-down old sheds that only attract vintage fans.

So sadly, no one wants to go with her, and with bright-coloured heads bobbing, her companions walk together to the train station, leaving Satsuki.

So she goes - on foot - to a particularly new arcade, only made a few years back. It's paint is chipping and the sign is slightly wonky, but it works. She likes the feeling of it.

The second the glass doors slide soundlessly shut behind her, Satsuki runs to a strange machine and takes out a card from her pocket, long lost and forgotten. She swipes it.

Suddenly, the machine comes to life, everything on it shakes as one, three, five, seven basketballs come tumbling down the ramp, stopping only as they reach the barricade around it.

There is a clicking noise and the timer starts to count down.

 _58, 57, 56, 54._

She hasn't done it in so long.

 _31, 30, 29, 28._

As every ten seconds go by, the timer makes a noise similar to that of a bell, it distresses her.

 _13, 12, 11, 10._

She stops to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, missing the shot she attempted.

 _5, 4, 3 -_

A shot she doesn't remember taking slides smoothly into the hoop, followed by a satisfied breath.

She has landed fifty hoops.

Well, forty-nine.

The pinkette wants to turn around, but she is stopped by two firm hands at her arms and a lazy grunt when she realises the letters ' _ROUND TWO_ ' are being projected in the air.

And as she continues shooting, she sees a tanned arm landing shots straight after hers have slid pass the hoop, catching the rebounds that bounce back and throwing them back again - one handed.

Every so often, she feels skin on her back and it makes her feel dizzy, often causing her to miss the shot, have her guest catch the rebound as his skin brushes on her arm.

They don't manage to land another fifty goals because Satsuki has lost focus completely.

A buzzer sounds and tickets roll out of the machine, sleek card in exchange for her hard work.

She hears another lazy grunt and feels the warmth behind her fading.

"Wait!"

His face tilts slightly and she sees a tuft of navy-blue hair peek out from under his work cap.

"Thank you!" she calls out again. "I got a lot of tickets!"

No reply.

He's oiling the door to the laser tag room.

 _Rude._

She opens her mouth to speak again, but then decides against it.

After the soft sound of glass clamping shut, Daiki stops pretending he's working.

He touches his face with two fingertips and all he feels is _fire_.

 **14.**

She is to be the first female alpha wolf in a while, not very strong, but her battle tactics are amazingly detailed and thought-out, and she has granted countless victories for her pack.

He will become a strong alpha male with only determination and strength as his fuel, he never thinks but he strikes accurately, being the ultimate trump card of his pack.

Once they are both alphas, the difference between them will close and their packs will be equally dangerous.

They are both of age, eighteen, and it is time for them to find their mate.

All the packs in the area have an annual event dubbed the ' _Soul Search_ ', for all the young wolves to find their mate. During that one day, all the packs have an automated truce between one another, and no attacking is permitted.

Satsuki arrives a while after the event's official beginning, her stomach churning at the sight of the already partnered mates. Some were in tight embrace with close friends, whilst others where exchanging awkward smiles with strangers, former enemies snarling weakly at one another.

But the attraction between them all is undeniable.

A while later, Satsuki feels an invisible force slam against her sanity, her heart beating as if her heartstrings were puppeteers, her sanity melting away as a white-hot power seared within her. It was inevitable and beyond question that her mate was here. She _has_ to find him.

She turns around, but she's been cornered by a tall male who seems at least two years older than her, but his appearance here proves this wrong.

A gasp hitches in her throat because she _knows._

Almost immediately, he swoops down and bites her neck, his forehead hitting her square in the jaw.

Once he pulls away with his lips stained red, the effect is instantaneous and the abused skin reforms into a curve like a rainbow with three irregular ones striking it down in the middle. The center one goes straight down, but the left one curves to the left and the right one to the right. [a/n: think basketball pattern, fancified]

Satsuki writhes uncomfortably as he keeps his arm above her head, trapping her.

An unreadable expression falls on his face, causing Satsuki to frown.

"An alpha female?" he spits. "You're an _alpha_?"

At first she is shocked, but then remembers that at the taste of her blood, her memories are his, her feelings and her thoughts all bound to him.

She nods, slightly irked by his rudeness. "What of it?"

"But I don't _want_ an alpha." he growls weakly, but sharply. " 'Specially not a fucking female."

It is too late though, as he has already marked her and Satsuki curses herself for being so vulnerable.

The pull of the mark is too strong, and before she knows it, Satsuki finds herself on her toes, her canines digging into his skin near his collarbone, which also reforms into the strange pattern, the strange mark.

 _Their_ mark.

He snarls and runs a calloused finger over his skin, scowling down at her.

"At least you're hot," he shrugs, walking away.

When Satsuki stalks back to her headquarters, the mark is still there, indicating that he does actually want her after all.

 _Daiki Aomine. Third son of Hiro and Ninako Aomine. Eighteen and four months old. Has had fourteen broken bones so far._

Her mind is completely consumed by him, and she knows that somewhere on the other side of the town, his is full of hers. It brings a smile to her face.

She rises early the next morning to warm, fleeting lips on her temple, but she falls asleep again.

It is afterward she touches her collar, the mark is gone.

 **15.**

"Do you believe in fate?" A seven year old Satsuki asks the boy at the dairy.

The purple haired boy frowns at her as he returns to eating his pack of sea-salt crisps.

"Maybe."

She nods.

"Do you believe in fate?" twelve year old Satsuki asks her best friend.

Riko studies her chewed-up pencil hard and shakes her head.

"I don't think so."

Satsuki nods.

"Do you believe in fate?" seventeen year old Satsuki asks the school librarian, who peers at her suspiciously.

The green-haired male pushes up his glasses. "We have a selection on destiny, fate and soulmates if you are interested." he suggests blankly.

She nods.

"Isle 136, I think. Dreams and mysterious things."

By the end of three weeks, she has finished half the selection, but nothing seems to satisfy her craving of the need to define destiny.

"Why're you so into this fate stuff anyway?" Riko asks her one day in the cafeteria.

"Oh.. you know, just curious." she says meekly, earning an eyebrow raise from her friend.

This is a lie. Satsuki has been dreaming about soulmates and destinies for years. Having your life planned out for you, the one you're fated to remain with forever, the troubles you're supposed to come across.

But mostly, the person who she has no idea if they're supposed to be with her or not.

She saw a therapist once when she was fifteen, "I'm not sure if they're normal dreams, really." she says, shifting in her seat. "They're too vivid." She never went back.

When she turned twenty-one, some guy asked her out and gradually, he proposed to her. One particularly troublesome night, she was woken by a flick to her forehead.

"You okay, Satsuki?" he asked, yawning.

"You were squirming around and murmuring a name, 'Dai'-something."

"Daiki." she whispers.

"What?"

"Oh. Nothing."

She doesn't fall asleep again.

 **16.**

The school magazine asked for an interactive column which would consist of advice, entertaining stories and basically things to share.

Somehow, Daiki wound up being the columnist.

On his first week - the 'funny stories' week -, his commentary box only had two letters.

 _'So, I have a friend who used to really like going to this one park or something and she'd always see this guy there. She really liked the guy, but never talked to him. One day she decided to climb a tree, don't ask me why, and she fell out on top of his stuff. -Natsu'_

Daiki frowned at the letter, but because it was his job, he replied.

 _'Well, Natsu, of course it was your_ friend _. '_ he typed. _'That's an okay story, actually, I hope your friend is still alive. And for being one of our first writers, thank you. - yours sincerely, the magazine guy'_

 _'Next we have 'Oho-Asa knows all' with...'_

The magazine is published and Daiki overhears some people laughing at his blunt commentary.

The next week, it is advice and questions week and this column proved much more popular.

The questions range from _'I think my boyfriend is gay'_ to _'Do turtles eat cabbage?'._

But the question that sticks out most is ' _Do you think soulmates exist? Like werewolves and their mark kinda stuff, it's cool huh._ '

He skims everything, and his eyes fall on the end of the paper.

 _'- Natsu'_

His first repeated writer.

 _'Hell no.'_ he replies

Daiki answers all the questions with his point of view and the magazine is published again.

The weeks fly and by now, Daiki is used to the fact that he is the 'interactive columnist' of the school magazine, even though he is just doing this for credit. The writer with the penname 'Natsu' is persistent and writes to him every week.

One day in the middle of the second semester, Daiki reads another one of Natsu's letters, and he has given up on guessing who the fool was, whether they were male or female, their year level - Daiki had given up.

 _'So it's sad stories week? My story isn't real sad, but some person always thought they dreamt about real-life happenings and knew about past lives and there was this one guy they were kinda hooked over because he kept appearing in the visions and stuff, but they didn't want to seem like a nut so they tried to remind them to see if he remembered anything. But he didn't, which was kinda sad for them. - Natsu'_

Daiki doesn't know how to respond.

Later on when the magazine is on editing, his friend, Shoichi blinks as he peers over Daiki's shoulder. "This Natsu seems like a weirdo," he comments. "I mean the first few stories were kinda odd, but the last one makes them seem crazy."

Daiki nods weakly.

 **17.**

"Satsuki." she's in a cafe with Daiki while they wait for two significant teams to play.

"Can I tell you something?" Satsuki nods and peers at her friend, waiting for him to speak.

"Do you believe in fate?" Her eyes immediately grow as she fumbles with her gloves. "D - Dai-chan!" she splutters. "Are you alright? Do you have a cold?"

She removes a mitten and presses her fingers to his forehead and he grumbles, pushing her off.

"No.. It's just.."

She expects him to say something about basketball, expects it to be a lingering though of Akashi's emperor-eye or something, but he surprises her by saying: "I think I love - loved you."

There is obvious red in her cheeks already, but at this statement, Satsuki shakes her head nervously as she waits for him to continue.

"Sometimes I think I'm dreaming, but they're too vivid to be dreams." he continues. "There's always a you, and a me, sometimes I'm a prince and sometimes I'm a painter, sometimes you're a wolf and a girl that watches too many videos online," he says, stumbling over his words.

"I'm just spouting random crap, right?"

He suddenly looks so distressed she wants to lean over and hold him. "No, you're not."

"I think.. I've known you forever." He says after a small silence. "Is it creepy? I think I attacked you once or something." He points to himself. "Sorry."

Her eyes are glassy and she shakes her head.

 _He remembers._

"No, no it's not creepy." she takes a sharp intake of breath. "I've been waiting.. for-forever."

His eyes search hers and she inhales a shaky breath.

"Listen.."

 **then.**

They become a couple, which is granted. They go on little dates, kiss mischievously in secret, laugh at each other and age together.

It's when Satsuki turns eight-nine, she dies of old age and three years later, Daiki follows her into deep slumber, a grudging smile on his face, his heart bursting with possibilities for all the forevers after.

 **18.**

Her name is Kyouko and she is the daughter of a priestess, bound to purity and away from the wordly pleasures of life.

He, however, greets her by walking into the church and kissing her full on the lips.

"Satsuki," he breathes. "I missed you."

His breath mingles with hers and she kisses him back.

* * *

 **I SPENT SO LONG ON THIS Y'ALL DON'T EVEN KNOW**

 **REVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREIVEIEFGJKDFGH;**

 **The overall plot belongs to sparklepox on ao3, but the in-between ones are by me, the last two were inspired by.**


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